


Mission 57: The King

by indigo (indigo_angels)



Series: Mission Arc [16]
Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 20:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_angels/pseuds/indigo
Summary: A glimmer of light for the team, in a mission full of death.





	Mission 57: The King

Face and Murdock entered the last property in the settlement with identically grim expressions. This one appeared to be the same as all the others but they couldn't afford to be complacent, there was always a chance that one of the attackers had remained behind to loot the empty homes, or maybe they'd been booby-trapped, a gift for the American soldiers who would no doubt discover this latest atrocity. It was as the rest though, empty, abandoned, its owners dragged from their lives and shot, bodies heaped in the main square of the tiny settlement and set alight - Face knew he would have the burning stench of flesh in his nostrils for weeks.

 

"We done?" Murdock's voice was tight; they'd have to be very careful with the pilot in the coming days, these types of missions were always hard to cope with, but Murdock especially found them trying.

 

"Yeah..." Face had had enough of this place full of senseless death, even the livestock and the dogs had been slaughtered, not a single life had been spared. He needed to find Hannibal and BA and tell them what they’d discovered; there was nothing they could do, nothing anyone could do for these people now, but just being with Hannibal always made everything so much more bearable. "I'll call the others, maybe they-" He stopped, every muscle in his body tensing even as Murdock held his hand up for silence. They were back into stealth mode instantly, well-rehearsed techniques automatically sliding into place as they cautiously tracked back the way they had just come, down the darkened passageway and into the room at the rear that this tragic family had obviously used as their sleeping room.

 

They entered - silent ghosts - and Murdock stayed by the door, gun raised and ready whilst Face advanced across the room, his eye fixed to the night scope of his carbine. There wasn't a sound to be heard now, and Face's heart beat out a steady tattoo, calm but ready. He’d been certain the room had been empty when they’d searched it mere minutes ago, his eyes had been drawn to the roughly made crib standing in the corner and his heart constricted painfully. But a lot of these houses had pits underneath them, the villagers used them as storage, sometimes for keeping pigs and goats, and, increasingly, as bolt holes when they were threatened. He hadn't seen the tell-tale trap door when they'd searched, it would be sloppy of him to have missed it, but maybe it was well hidden, under the bed or the heavy looking chest in the corner.

 

There it was again, clearer this time, undoubtedly in the same room as them. It was very quiet, hardly discernable at all and sounded like the cry of a small animal, a kitten perhaps, or maybe a goat kid, overlooked in the night's carnage.  He was pretty sure it had come from the direction of the heavy wooden chest and a quick glance at Murdock confirmed that as the pilot had swung his gun in that direction as well. Face advanced slowly and cautiously, looking for the scrape marks on the floor that would indicate the chest had recently been pulled away from the wall to reveal the hidden doorway, but there were none which puzzled him.

 

The chest had been hand-made, lovingly carved probably by the father of the woman who had, until today, made her home in this house. It was the local custom for all fathers to make such a chest for their daughters which, over the years, would be filled with all manner of useful gift to be bestowed once the girl became a married woman. This chest was particularly beautiful, this father had been especially talented - or maybe his daughter was just that precious to him, again Face's heart hurt as he wondered if the whole of the extended family had died today.  

 

He reached out to pull it to one side just as the noise sounded again, this time clearly from _inside_ the chest. He frowned and carefully eased the catch over, lifting the heavy lid and swinging the barrel of his gun down so he could see inside. There were no family linens in this chest, no pans or embroidered table cloths either, and the eyes that blinked up at him as he stared down the sights of his gun didn't belong to a kitten or a goat kid.

 

"Fuck..." he whispered, swinging his weapon over his shoulder and reaching down, "Murdock - it's a fucking _baby_..."

 

"What?" For a second, Murdock had stepped forward to see but instantly thought better of it, remaining at the door with his gun ready even as Face was reaching in to lift the baby out. "It alright?"

 

"I think so," as Murdock watched, Face lifted the tiny scrap of life in the world of death around them and examined it the best he could in the meagre light. "It's not very old at all, few weeks maybe. They must have hid it in here when the heard the raiders coming, must have been hoping to come back for it later," unbidden, both their thoughts returned to the macabre fire in the main square outside.

 

"You sure it's okay? It's making a weird noise..."

 

The baby was whimpering again and Face frowned at it. "I think it's dehydrated, and stressed. Must have been locked in that trunk all night, crying its lungs out."

 

"We gotta go...."

 

Murdock's warning was low but Face had already laid the baby down on the bed and was lifting up the gown it was wearing. "Shit... it stinks, diaper's filthy. It's a boy."

 

"Face..."

 

"Go find me some water, we gotta change him."

 

"We gotta go..."

 

Face looked up. "And leave him here? He'll die! Go get the water!"

 

Murdock looked anxiously around him and then back at Face. “I never said we would leave him! But we gotta go, Face… you know that.”

 

Face’s eyes narrowed. “I know. So hurry up.”

 

By the time Murdock was back with the water, Face had laid out a fresh scrap of linen to use as a diaper and was busily wiping away smeared waste with the old one while holding scraggly little ankles up in the air in his hand.

 

“Thanks.” He didn’t look up, but grabbed another scrap of material and quickly started washing away the dried edges off the baby’s skin. “You seen anything they might have been feeding it back there?” he asked quickly. “It’s gonna need something soon and chances are it’s only had its mom’s milk so far.”

 

Murdock ignored him, watching avidly as Face worked. “How do you know how to _do_ that?” he eventually breathed.

 

Face glanced up, then straight back at his work. “I grew up in an orphanage remember, buddy? There were always babies there.”

 

“Yeah, but… wasn’t that what the nuns were there to do?

 

A soft laugh burst from Face’s lips. “I’d liked to have been there when you suggested that one! Nah, we all helped out, they tried to make us feel like a family.” He finished tying the new diaper in place, his nimble fingers working quickly, then he pulled the gown back over the baby’s legs and gently picked him up, tucking him against his chest. “Food?” he asked pointedly and Murdock vanished into the other room.

 

In another few minutes they were ready to go. Murdock had found a couple of bottles resting in a pail of water which looked like they might hold milk. There’d also been a paste-like substance in a little bowl he thought tasted like rice. He stowed it all away into his pack just as Face came out, baby in one arm, bed sheet in the other. He held it out, “Here, help me with this will you.”

 

Together, they ripped the sheet down the middle and then, still expertly balancing the baby in own large hand, Face started unclipping his body armour. “Hey!” Murdock hissed at him, “What are you _doing_?”

 

Face rolled his eyes, “You think I’m gonna strap him on top of my kit do you? Come on Murdock! Give me a hand.” Shaking his head, Murdock stepped forward, this just got worse and worse with every second they were here.

 

Gently, Face held the baby right up against his sweat-damp t-shirt, and together they wound the sheet around him, keeping his head clear, but supported as he lay against the warmth of a beating heart. It wasn’t that easy to slip the body armour back on then, but with the side lacing extended as far as it could go, they somehow managed to get it half fastened.

 

“We have to _go_!” Murdock was in the doorway, looking out into the lightening sky in concern.

 

“I’m ready.” Face hauled his pack on back over his back, carefully manoeuvring the straps to avoid the baby on his front then he met Murdock’s eyes, the seriousness of their situation clearly understood in his blue eyes. “Let’s go.”

 

Together, the three of them slipped out into the hostile dawn and instantly headed for the relative safety of the trees. They had a bit of a hike to meet up with the others now, and it would be anything but easy once the light bathed the land around them.

 

_________________

 

“Where _are_ they?”

 

Hannibal paced up and down behind the radio operators at the FOB alternating between seething in anger at being forced to leave his men behind and sick with worry about what had happened to them.

 

The hapless operator glanced back over his shoulder at the Colonel who was visibly vibrating behind him. “We’ve got units out there now, sir, they’re sweeping the area, but there’s a lot of enemy action going on out there.”

 

Hannibal turned his dark eyes to BA and the message in them was clear for the Corporal to read; _I shouldn’t have let them go off alone, I should have made them take a radio, I should never have left them behind…_

BA stepped forward and clapped his CO on the shoulder. “They’ll be alight. They musta been delayed a bit that’s all. It weren’t our fault we had to go.”

 

And they _had_ had to go, Hannibal knew that. They were in danger of getting penned in and it wasn’t just their lives he’d been playing with – there’d been ten other soldiers with them as well. Staying would have been suicide, but still, leaving without them felt like betrayal.

 

“Hang on, sir…” the operator leant closer to his desk, pressing his earpiece in a little more firmly. “Someone’s picked them up – bringing them back in now!”

 

Relief washed over Hannibal in a warm wave but he ruthlessly held it back for now. “Are they injured?” He knew _something_ must have happened to make them miss their RV like they had.

 

“I don’t think so,” the operator was frowning, “but there has been a request put in for medical assistance when they land…” he shrugged, instantly pulled away by another job and Hannibal gestured to BA to follow him out as they stalked across the base to the landing area.

 

__________

 

They heard the heli’ before they saw it, coming in low, skimming the tops of the buildings before dropping into a perfect landing position. Instantly, both Face and Murdock appeared in the open doorway and Hannibal’s relief at seeing them on their feet was tempered by the blood he could see, even from his distance, all down Face’s left side and arm. Murdock had hold of him firmly by the right arm and the two of them scrambled out of the slowing helicopter, ducking under the downdraft and making straight for the waiting medics. Jogging around the outside of the pad, Hannibal and BA went to meet them.

 

The commotion that Hannibal could see as he drew close sparked the panic back up inside him once more, he could hear Face’s voice, undeniably stressed and insistent, but his lieutenant was still on his feet which had to be a good sign – didn’t it?

 

“Face!” They came up behind and Hannibal’s hand reached out and grabbed Face’s arm, the right one, the one clear of blood. “You okay?”

 

Face spun around, and Hannibal’s gut tightened at how pale he was, at the sheen of sweat on his brow but he didn’t speak, he just whirled back to the medics and leaned over the gurney again. “Is he alive?” he asked and Hannibal’s dread deepened.

 

He took a step closer in, his hand still firm on Face’s bicep and he heard BA’s muttered curse even as his eyes landed on the little grey figure, streaked in blood, themselves. “Shit…” he breathed as Face asked once more, “ _Is he alive_?”

 

He was, they found out a little later, but only just. He’d collapsed, his tiny body unable to cope with the trauma and the dehydration coupled with the unfamiliar food that Face and Murdock had tried to give him as they’d run through the barren countryside. The blood which made him look like something from a Halloween party was all Face’s, a stray bullet nicking his shoulder and bleeding freely as they had no time to stop and attend to it; he’d lost a decent amount of blood, but it was nothing he hadn’t lived through before and by the time Hannibal had talked over the fate of their new arrival with the base commander, he was back to the Medical unit to find his Lieutenant and the baby laid together on a narrow cot, both with a drip, both fast asleep. 

 

He stood in the doorway, the sight almost knocking him out in the most unexpected of ways. Sixteen years he and Face had been lovers and in the whole of those sixteen years Hannibal had never even stopped to consider a life for them after the military, never mind _this_ , a baby maybe, for them. A family at last, for Face. He had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat and he was glad they were alone so that no one could see the way he had to blink around the water in his eyes.

 

He crept forward and lowered himself down in the chair at the side of the bed, the chair he suspected that Face had been told to sit in, and watched the two sleeping patients. They both looked better, they both had a bit of colour to them and, if Face had not been washed, then at least the baby had been and he was now dressed in what looked like a t-shirt from someone’s stuffed teddy bear, a makeshift diaper peeking out underneath.

 

Glancing over his shoulder first, he allowed himself the luxury of leaning in to press a kiss on Face’s dirt-streaked forehead before leaning back with a sigh, allowing himself, at last, the chance to let a bit of the tension leak out of him. He’d known Face was okay these last few hours since the heli’ had brought him and Murdock back, but this was the first time they’d had the chance to be alone – well, almost alone of course.

 

Hannibal hadn’t really had the chance to look at the baby either, and his eyes ran over him now, his heart twisting in unavoidable sympathy. He was a little, scratty thing, still pale and thin, and he’d hardly had the best of starts to his life so far. Hannibal doubted things were due to get much better    

for him either… they’d seen the odd orphanage whilst they’d been in-country, and they weren’t the type of place you would ever wish to grow up in. But what were his options?

 

Hannibal’s eyes drifted over to Face and a little smile quirked over his lips as he saw the arm that his boy was draping over the baby, holding him close against his chest as they slept and a sudden, very worrying thought struck him. He knew Face, knew him well, knew how much his childhood had affected him, knew how he felt about children growing up with love as well as care… knew how damn stubborn and determined he could be when he set his mind on something. He just hoped he wasn’t going to set his mind on anything to do with this baby.

 

He sat and watched Face’s chest as it rose and fell steadily under the baby’s cheek. It was unfortunate the way life has spun for the little guy, but that was not their responsibility to sort out now. Without Face, he’d be dead anyway, he had his life ahead of him now, however that might go – it was all they could do, they couldn’t go through this war solving every single personal issue they came across; the Red Crescent were on their way to collect him, they’d look after him now. Hannibal understood that, he just hoped that Face did too.

 

_____________

 

“Hannibal, no! You expect me to do that? You expect me just to walk away from him like that? When I’m all he’s got right now?”

 

Hannibal rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Kid, I’m not asking you to leave him alone. I’m asking you to leave him with all these highly qualified nurses around here.”

 

“But…” Face paced up and down in front of him, “after everything he’s been through! He likes me! He _knows_ me! Come on, boss! This isn’t like you! It’s just mean! You’re being mean!”

 

It was difficult to resist pointing out that Face was being ridiculous but Hannibal persevered, he was an expert at handling these little emotional hiccups and riling Face up further was not the way forward. He got to his feet, keeping his gaze fixed on Face’s distressed eyes as he tracked him across the room. “Face… sweetheart…” he reached out and took reluctant hands. “I know this is hard for you…”

 

“Hannibal…”

 

“I know, baby, I know… but,” he pulled Face into his chest, he could feel the tension thrumming through him, “but you can’t keep him, you know, you just can’t. _We_ can’t,” he amended when he felt the tension triple.

 

Face stepped back, “ _Keep him_?” his eyes held Hannibal’s. “Shit, boss… I never said anything about _keeping_ him.”

 

The silence was awkward, the tension between them suddenly uncomfortable. Face turned away and Hannibal flailed for words as he watched him rub his hands over his stubbled face – this wasn’t what he had expected; this wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. “Face…”

 

“You think I want a kid?” Face had whirled around on him again, his eyes bright with tears and Hannibal felt his confusion grow.

 

“Face…”

 

“You think that _this_ isn’t enough for me? _You_ aren’t enough for me? Isn’t it enough for _you_?”

 

Hannibal shook his head, “I never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth here, kid…”

 

“So – what? You think this is about keeping him? I never said I wanted to keep him! It’s crazy, that’s crazy… I’m a fucking soldier Hannibal and I know I can’t keep him, I know that don’t I? I’ve already said he’ll have to go in one of those fucking awful orphanages,” somewhere along the line Face had started shouting, “And that’s better anyway right? Him living there, on his own, because why the fuck would he ever want to stay with me, anyway? What the hell could I give him? I couldn’t save his fucking mom, could I? He’d be better off as far away from me as-”

 

“That’s enough!” Hannibal still wasn’t quite sure what the hell all of this was about, but he’d certainly listened to all he was prepared to stomach. “Enough!” he grabbed his pacing Lieutenant around the biceps and spun him until they were eye to eye once more.

 

He was about to shout back, about to tell Face to get a grip, that he’d wake the damn baby with his shouting if he didn’t watch it and what would that achieve? But then he actually saw the look in his boy’s face, and actually understood it all for what it was, the churning mix of emotions that were surging through Face and turning him inside out with their force. Instead, he just pulled him in, wrapping his arms tightly around the tense shoulders and folding them together. “That’s enough,” he repeated, gentle this time. “Come here, just come here, Temp.”

 

It was the use of his name that did it. They didn’t do that often, usually in the dead of night when they were sweaty and sated and wrapped up safe away from everything else they needed to deal with and hearing it now brought Face up short, made him realise who he was with, what they had. Hannibal felt him sag, felt as he leaned all his weight into him and he held him closer, “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured as Face clung to him. “It’s okay, you can’t always save them all you know. No one expects you to. It’s okay…”

 

The two men stood together in the tiny room in the medical base, a tiny baby sleeping in the cardboard box that was a makeshift cot on the desk beside them.

 

______________________

 

Face turned to the door as it opened, forcing himself to smile at the nurse and the Red Crescent worker, an empty baby carrier swinging from her hand, who stood there. He’d promised Hannibal he’d do this right, the boss had delayed their next job so that Face could wait for the Red Crescent to arrive, the least he could do was do the man proud. The nurse was no fool though, she’d been around Face and the baby enough over the last week to know exactly how hard it was going to be for him – for all of them in fact.

 

“He’s lovely,” the Red Crescent worker, Claudia, was a softly spoken French woman, tall and exactly the type that Face would flirt with in other circumstances. “What’s his name?”

 

Face and the nurse exchanged a quick look but it was Face who answered, turning the bundle so that the worker could see him properly – it was a novelty for him to be awake. “We don’t know. I didn’t get chance to search for any documentation before we had to leave.”

 

“Okay,” Claudia leant forward and smoothed the baby’s soft, black hair down over his forehead. “Well, it will be useful if you can tell us everything you can before we leave, see what we can find out from his home life.”

 

Nodding, Face expertly juggled the baby into one arm and reached into a drawer underneath the cardboard cot. “I’ve got this here,” he passed over a sheet of paper covered in lines and marks. “It’s a map of the village. You can see his house circled there,” he tapped the centre. “It’s the best I can remember it anyway.”

 

“That’s great,” Claudia smiled as she folded the map up and slid it into her paper wallet. “That will help us a great deal.”

 

“And this was what he was wearing,” the grubby nightdress looked even worse than it had done, in the harsh lights of the medical unit. “And I took this as well…” cautiously, Face held out his hand trying not to let it shake as the grubby, balding bunny sat innocuously in his palm. “And that’s about it.” It was a paltry amount to show for a life.

 

Claudia smiled. “Thank you. We’ll make sure he keeps them with him.”

 

Silence fell. Face adjusted his grip a little more and smiled down at the dark eyes that looked up at him from the clean, white blanket. “He likes to be held while he goes to sleep, just for a while, but then he’ll sleep on his own as long as he’s wrapped up tight, he likes that, make sure you tell them to wrap him tight. And he’ll have almost all his bottle in one go if you let him but then he’ll get bad wind so he needs burping about a third of the way through and then again near the end. You just lift him like this,” he slid him up onto a shoulder, “and he brings it up really easy.”

 

A nod was his only answer as Claudia bent down and lifted the baby carrier up onto the desk next to the cardboard box.

 

“He’s just started smiling,” Face cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t think he had much to smile about but he does, if you lean over him and smile at him, sometimes he’ll smile back…” and then he had to stop, dropping his head to stare desperately at the earnest little face as his vision blurred horrifically.

 

There was a hand on his arm, “Hey, Face,” it was the nurse, Jenny, who’d spent most of her shifts looking after them both in here. “You want me to put him in the seat?”

 

Face still couldn’t answer, but he could shake his head. This was his job, his responsibility, he could do it for certain. It wasn’t easy though, there seemed to be far too many straps for his shaking fingers to cope with and he was suddenly stupidly cold without the little warm body pressed to his chest. The baby looked tiny in the carrier and for a minute he looked like he might cry which would have been the very last thing Face could have coped with. “Hey, hey, hey…” he cooed, leaning in and letting a tight fist curl around his finger. “Look at you in there, big guy, don’t you look all grown up! You’re not going to cry now, are you?” he blew a few noises, pulled a few faces, averted the crisis smoothly and was rewarded with a gummy smile for his efforts.

 

“Okay…” he pulled back a little, still staring into those big eyes that were already a deep, chocolate brown. “This is where I go then, leave you with the ladies.” He didn’t move, he’d already said all he’d wanted when there was only the baby to hear him, he didn’t need to say any of it again with his audience, but somehow he just couldn’t get his feet to work.

 

“He’ll be okay.” That was Claudia, but really? Would he? All alone in a war ravaged country? Face found it hard to believe.

 

“Come on, Face,” and that was Jenny, but how could he go when his finger was still in that tight little grip?

 

He looked at the baby, the baby looked back at him and shook his finger a little before letting go both hands going up over his head as he suddenly let out a massive yawn. Face laughed a little, “Yeah. You take a nap, little man, I’ll be thinking of you, okay?”

 

And then he forced himself to turn around and walk out.

 

______________________________

 

“Alright, kid, give me some space here, I can’t unlock the door!”

 

“I’m dropping the groceries! Come on!”

 

Hannibal finally pushed open the door of the little house they shared, just off base and stepped back to let Face climb over the pile of mail behind the door, managing to carry all his gear and two sacks of emergency groceries as well. As he staggered towards the kitchen, Hannibal stopped to collect the huge pile of circulars and bills from the carpet before dragging his own gear inside and finally shutting the door on the world and their latest round of missions.

 

“You want a beer?” Face’s voice drifted in from the back of the house. “I bought cold ones,” the hiss of an opening can told Hannibal Face’s decision. “I’m gonna have this one while I put the food away, then I’m gonna have another one while I have the world’s longest shower – you can join me if you like – then I’m gonna call for take out. How’d you fancy-” he looked up from stuffing bacon and eggs and cheese into the fridge and froze as he saw Hannibal looking back at him, single envelope grasped firmly in his hand. “What’s that?”

 

Hannibal’s eyes slowly drifted from the letter to Face’s and he turned it around, the red crescent design on the front marking it clearly for what it was. “Shit…” Face muttered as he rose to his feet, “You think he’s okay?” It had been three months; absolutely anything could have happened in three months and Face had spent a long time mulling every one of them over and over.

 

Shrugging, Hannibal handed it over, “Open it.”

 

Face paused, for a moment it looked unlikely he was going to do it, but then he just blew out a long breath and almost snatched it from Hannibal’s fingers, ripping it open and tugging the folded letter out into the afternoon sunshine. Silence fell. Hannibal hardly dared breathe as he watched Face’s eyes darting from side to side across the page, his mouth pressed into a tight line that betrayed his anxiety. He nodded slightly, the tiniest of smiles flitted across his face and then was gone and he cleared his throat. “They found out his name, it’s Malik, it means ‘the king’.”

 

“It’s a good name…” Hannibal crept a little closer.

 

His beer forgotten, Face went back to reading, his expression tight but giving nothing away as Hannibal hovered next to him. Finally he let out a long sigh and dropped the letter on the counter, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers. “Well?” Hannibal prompted.

 

Face didn’t look up as he answered. “They found his family as well. He has an aunt and an uncle a few miles away. He’s gone to them. It’s his mother’s sister…” He trailed off at that, the eyes drifting to a spot on the wall were bright and lost looking and more than Hannibal could stand.

 

“Come here,” he reached out an arm and Face came to him, dropping his head to Hannibal’s shoulder as they slid into each other’s embrace.

 

There would be no more talk now, not yet. Hannibal understood Face’s conflict over the news perfectly well; whilst it was no doubt good that the baby had a family and would not have to grow up in an overcrowded orphanage, at least living in an institution would have given him some protection against a repeat of the nightmare that had befallen his own village. It was a no-win situation and always had been, but at least Face could have some closure now, at least he could think of him with a name his mother had chosen and a family who would love him – more than Face himself had ever had.

 

“Come and shower with me,” he whispered to Face’s bent head, “It’s been far too long since I’ve had the chance to love you.”

 

Hand in hand they slipped out of the kitchen and towards the stairs, the letter and its single photograph of a smiling baby left on the counter to be considered another day.


End file.
